Exposure • h.s.

CHAPTER23.

... you might want to sit down for this one lol

TW // NSFW

One week later.

A loud thunderclap jolts me, making me jump.
I must have fallen asleep again, but there's not much I can do about it. My weather sensitivity is through the roof, and my moods mirror the sky, like an image rippling in a puddle. Plus, sleeping is one of the few things I'm good at these days, filling my daylight hours with something other than the never-ending mental torment.

It's been a week since I practically sealed myself in my room.

It's been a week since I got tangled up in that mix of danger and madness at that Hollywood club.

It's been a week since I last saw Harry.

After Niall knocked me out, my memories are a blur of what I saw and heard, interspersed with moments of pure blackout. I remember being carried, loaded into a car, loud noises, people around me, and then my bed.

When I woke up the next morning, I found a massive bump on my head, courtesy of Niall.

No apology note, flowers, or chocolates on the nightstand.
Instead, there was... a yellow apple. A clear sign that Harry had been there and wanted to tell me something with this odd gesture.

I think I was about to understand what Harry wanted to tell me with that, because in the early hours of the next day, exactly one week ago, I heard knocking on the door.

The apple was already on the bedside table.

"Mabel...," Harry had called me, "can I come in?"

Terrified and confused, I mustered the little strength remaining in my body to crawl towards the door. I slid off the bed, still in yesterday's clothes, marked with unpleasant memories and other people's sweat. In response, to his voice, I locked the door.

Harry didn't take it well because the knocks became even more insistent and repetitive, as if driven by an urgency I couldn't comprehend.

"Fuck... please, open the door," he pleaded. For the first time, I felt like I had the upper hand with Harry. The feeling must have gone to my head because, in response to his plea, I fiercely flipped him off. Too bad he couldn't see me.

Then I heard footsteps, the creaking of people approaching.

Harry must have leaned his head against the door because his quiet "Mabs, I'm not fucking joking, I'm running out of time..." reached me so strongly it seemed whispered in my ear.

The voices grew louder, they reached Harry at the door.

Someone called him, I heard Zayn addressing him, saying an "I'm sorry," to which Harry responded with a thunderous "no!" guttural and loud, like thunder and lightning combined.

It pierced my eardrums and left me wondering what was happening on the other side of the door. The scream was followed by sudden punches – a fight? Again? – and a dull thud.

Then, an eerie silence and footsteps fading into the distance.

I've debated several times whether to write to Harry, so now I have about a dozen drafts in my notes app. The texts have never seen the light of day through the "send" button.

Hi Harry, it's Mabel. The housekeeper gave me your number. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me the other night because without you, I don't know what would have happened to me. When I saw

Harry, it's Mabel, hope I'm not bothering you. I wanted to know if everything is okay. It's been four days since I saw you at the house. When I asked the housekeeper where you were, she said you were 'at home,' but you weren't here. Seeing me confused, she decided to play it off, which seemed quite strange to me because